


anything you want, i'll give it up

by moreissuesthanv0gue



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - America, Alternate Universe - College/University, California, Cooking, Domestic Fluff, Domestic Violence, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Punk Harry, zouis bromance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-17
Updated: 2015-05-17
Packaged: 2018-03-31 01:17:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3959008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moreissuesthanv0gue/pseuds/moreissuesthanv0gue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a tattoo connoisseur and a lonely boy share a passion for english.</p><p>or the one where Harry has marks on his body that even his vibrant tattoo's can't cover.</p>
            </blockquote>





	anything you want, i'll give it up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [indieau](https://archiveofourown.org/users/indieau/gifts).



> hi! I'm not entirely sure how this is supposed to work, every fic exchange is different, but i really really hope you enjoy this! I tried to add in a plot twist but I'm 99% sure I failed :((((

You know that thing that some people say? That you’ll know he’s the right one for you when he makes you go weak at the knees, makes your hands shake with anticipation, and all that?

Well, it was never like that for Louis. The first time he saw Harry was in the first English lecture of the year, one of the big ones with something like 200 people in the room. Although he’d been nervous, a wave of sudden calmness washed over him when he saw Harry. Louis had been jotting notes down feverishly, unknowingly writing down every single word that came out of the lecturer’s mouth (a nervous habit of his) when he felt someone brush against him before settling down in the empty seat next to him.

He looks over, hoping to meet a potential new friend, and _oh fuck, are you kidding me?_ It’s just his luck, really. Of course the most attractive guy he’s _ever_ seen decides to plop his gangly ass right next to him.

The boy meets Louis’ eye and smiles.

“Hey. I’m Harry Styles” he says, out of breath with his cheeks flushed red and eyes wide.

It’s a huge shock, really, because this boy has tattoos and piercings and black boots, and skinny jeans. Even so, he’s still the most unconventionally beautiful boy Louis has ever seen. Apparently Louis hadn’t been as subtle as he thought he was being, because now Harry was frowning.

“Hey, don’t look at me like that, I’m not a fucking monster, it’s an _art form_.” Then clearly motioned to his tattooed arms as he pouts.

Louis gapes, quickly making sure the lecturer wasn’t looking their way, before leaning over to whisper in Harry’s ear,

“I didn’t mean it like that. C’mon, don’t be daft. I think they’re pretty badass. _You’re_ pretty badass, willingly getting needles jabbed into you.”

Harry smiles at that, chest puffing a little with pride.  
“I’m Louis Tomlinson, by the way.” They shake hands.

~*~

Louis thought it was mildly adorable the way Harry waited for him to cram his substantial amount of notes into his bag after class. The way that Harry waited for an “Okay, let’s go” from Louis.

“Tell me about yourself.” Louis prompts as they traverse the seemingly never ending university halls.

“Not much to tell, really. I’m an open book, everything important about me is told by the ink on my body. So pick a tattoo, and I’ll tell you about it.” Harry says, steering them out the door and over to a patch of grass, shaded by a willow tree.

Louis sits down, pulling Harry along with him, before clutching onto Harry’s arm, examining the emblems staining his skin.

“Um…let me guess. Hipster phase?” he says, pointing to a cluster of tattoo’s reading “NY, LA, LDN”.

Harry laughs.

“No, actually, it’s, uh, places I’ve wanted to go, since I was small. I grew up in Beverly, East Yorkshire. Small ass town, so I’ve always admired big cities. One down, 2 to go, I guess.” He says, gesturing at the obnoxiously large billboard behind them, with “University of California, Los Angeles” in big, bold letters.

Louis smiles at that. He’s been doing that a lot today.

“I feel you on that one. I was born and raised in Ramsgate, Kent, and, California was one of my dreams too. Along with Egypt, but that was only ‘cause the pyramids looked cool and there’d be naked men.”

That’s the first time he hears Harry laugh, and he decides that he’d like it as his new alarm.

“I’d like to go to Egypt too, one day. Pyramids are actually quite fascinating, and the whole naked man thing is a plus.”

Louis’ eyes bulge out of their sockets.

“You…you’re gay?”   
Harry cocks an eyebrow. “I…I didn’t think you’d mind, considering you…you literally just said…” he trails off awkwardly.   
Louis is quick to reassure. “No, no, I don’t mind, it’s just…you don’t seem like a typical gay.”

“Yeah, the tattoo’s throw everyone off.” Harry says with a shrug, dropping the subject.

Louis doesn’t push it. Besides, something else has caught his attention anyways.

“What…what the hell is this supposed to mean?” he says, suppressing a giggle, pointing at the skull in a picture frame.   
Harry’s nose twitches a little.

“That’s…um…I don’t even know. I just thought it looked cool. Probably a stupid move.” he says. Louis can’t help but agree, but he’s cute, so Louis can definitely look past it.

20 minutes later, Louis’ stomach hurts from laughter. Right before they part ways, Harry thrusts his phone into Louis’ hands, giggling slightly.

“You’re funny. Text me sometime.” Louis smiles all the way home.

~*~

“Holy fuck Zayn!” Louis shouts as he slams the door of their shared flat shut. He hears the quick pattering of footsteps before Zayn appears, hair dripping wet and butt naked save for a towel wrapped around his waist (to protect his masculinity, he claims).

“What?” He exclaims, equally loudly as Louis.  
“I got a number!” Louis shouts, waving his phone in the air as if it was the olympic torch.

Zayn pulls a face, saying “you dragged me out of the shower to tell me _that_?” He’s scoffing, but the smile on his face tells a different story.

“Let me put on some clothes, and then I want to hear details.”

~*~

“Ok, who’s the lucky guy?” Zayn asks, as he emerges from the bathroom, towel drying his hair.

Louis excitedly pats the spot next to him on the couch. “His name’s Harry, he’s an adorable little thing, I don’t know that much about him because we only talked for, like, a half hour or something. He’s a punk, but, like, one of the cute punks, y’know? He says that his tattoo’s are an art form. An _art form._ Is that not the cutest thing you’ve ever heard?”

Zayn nods approvingly. “As an art major, I can confirm that tattoo’s are definitely an art form, good on him, he's got brains.” He shoots Louis an encouraging smile before heading heading to the fridge, presumably on the hunt for food.

“Shit, Louis, we’ve got nothing but beer and blueberry muffins. Jesus, we’ve gotta go shopping tomorrow. You’re gay, shouldn’t you be doing that? Fuck it, I’m ordering a pizza, any topping preferences?” he yells from the kitchen.

“Nah” Louis shouts back, already formulating a text to Harry.

Zayn watches from the kitchen, wide eyed. Louis picked this kid over pizza, Louis’ favourite food. Even when he could’ve ordered his nasty chipotle chicken and olive shit.

“Damn” he thinks to himself, shaking his head slightly. “I really hope this Harry kid is worth it.”

~*~

As he slowly but surely makes his way through his first semester, Louis begins looking forward to his Monday morning English lectures. He loves what he knows about Harry, how easily words flow out of his mouth when they’re together. He loves how adorable Harry is, like a big golden retriever with a studded collar. How he colors in his bullet points, all the colors of the rainbow, in order. How he writes on his hand, occasionally leaning onto Louis’ desk to write on his paper. How when the teacher is answering the same question for the 3rd time, he’ll think of stupid fucking jokes that Louis will laugh at, just to humour him.

“Hey stupid” Louis playfully remarks, after the lecture is over, bumping his shoulder against Harry, who winces a bit. Louis is automatically worried.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, as they step outside, sitting down underneath the all too familiar willow tree. Harry chuckles.

“Fell down the stairs, bruised my entire side, fucking hell.” And Louis isn’t sure he believes that, but he lets it go because fuck, it’s Harry.

~*~

Louis wakes up on a Saturday with no plans. Zayn’s gone off to be with his girlfriend, his family is out of town, and he’s got nowhere to be. Oh, and he’s in a bad mood because fucking Harry won’t answer any of his texts. So he sits on the couch all day, eating ice cream and watching re runs of Friends.

At 9:30, Harry texts him back, saying “Sorry, was with my boyfriend, and spending the night with my family. Free tomorrow?”

They’d known each other for how long now? 3 weeks? A month? How could Louis not have known about Harry’s boyfriend? They told each other everything.

Exactly then, Zayn walks into the flat, eyes immediately landing on Louis, who’s making the best impression of a burrito he’d ever seen, wrapped up in multiple blankets.

Zayn chuckles. “Lou? Whats going on, mate?”

Louis sniffles.

“Harry…Harry has a fucking boyfriend.”

Zayn’s silent for a moment, before he makes his way to the couch, enveloping Louis (and all of his blankets) into a hug.

“I’m sorry, love. Can’t believe that fucker led you on like that.”

Despite everything, Louis was quick to run to Harry’s defence. “No, no, no, it’s my fault. I never asked if he was single…but…I assumed, because…” Louis trails off, sniffling again.

Zayn sighed. “You need to get some sleep, Lou. There’ll be other boys.”

But Louis’ pretty sure that there isn’t another Harry.

~*~

“You sure you want to do this, mate?” Zayn asks, parking in front of Harry’s flat.

Louis smiles, but says nothing back, simply walking out, slamming the door behind him.

Harry’s outside of his flat, waiting for Louis.

Louis is fully prepared to be angry, completely ready to shout and shit, however, all of his anger dissipates when he catches a glimpse of Harry’s tear streaked face, bruised and bloodied. The fear sets in. Louis runs the last couple steps through the corridor, gasping slightly as he takes a shaking Harry into his arms.

“What happened?” Louis whispers, rocking Harry slightly.

Harry’s voice is so incredibly quiet when he replies, “Can we talk inside, please? I’m tired. I’m sorry”.

Louis feels a surge of pity in his chest, so he picks Harry up, despite his quiet protesting, and gently plops him on the couch, taking a seat next to him.

Louis takes Harry’s hand.

“What happened, love?” Louis asks, concerned.

“I…um, I can’t say? But I’m alright, I promise. I’m just tired.” Louis bites his lip, debating on whether or not he should push the envelope. He decides against it, instead allowing Harry to lay his head on his lap.

“Alright, thats fine. You can tell me on your own time, lovely.”

Still a little suspicious, he adds: “How was yesterday then, with your boyfriend?”

Harry smiles a little, closing his eyes. “Fantastic. It was…really really great. You should meet Aaron sometime, you’d like him.”

Louis isn’t sure that he’d ever like anyone who may have potentially injured Harry, but he bites his tongue. “For sure, I’d love to meet him, make sure he’s treating my boy right.”

~*~

Louis leaves Harry’s flat that night with his thoughts bouncing around his head. Sliding into Zayn’s car, he cuts right to the chase. “Zayn, there’s something definitely not right about Harry’s boyfriend. He seems shady as hell.” Zayn looks over at Louis, his honey brown eyes wide as saucers at the serious tone of Louis’ voice.

“Shady as in…?” Louis bites his lip, debating. Eventually, he gives in.

“When I went to meet him today, he was all bruised. I’m talking black eye, purple ribs, bloodied lip, the whole 9 yards.”

Zayn shivers slightly.

“Shit…and you think that his boyfriend did it to him?”

Louis nods.

“Does Mr. asshole-boyfriend have a name?” Zayn prompts, looking over at Louis expectantly.

“Yeah. Aaron” he snarls, with a face of disgust.

Zayn can’t help but laugh. “Fuck, Aaron’s are the douchiest. Even worse than Clay”.

~*~

The signs are there, and as Louis and Harry got closer and closer, it becomes more and more obvious. How Harry would claim to be “busy” for a day or two, coming back a couple days later, bruised as all hell. Even so, Harry was cheerful as always, coming into their English lecture in fluffy sweaters (black, of course) and flowery ear plugs. He still giggled as he’d write lyrics on the back of his hand in his sparkly purple gel pen. And they still always hung out underneath their willow tree for half an hour afterwards.

“Hey, I never got through all of your tattoos! We’re practically strangers” Louis says one day, under their tree, ridiculously sappy as he bops Harry’s nose.

Harry smiles.

“Have at it, then.” he says, extending both of his arms towards Louis, who bursts out laughing, pointing to a particular spot on Harry’s bicep.

“What the fuck?” he asks, gesturing at a tattoo saying “You booze, you lose”.

Harry blushes a deep red.

“C’mon, haven’t you ever gotten so incredibly wasted that you swear off of alcohol, even if it’s just for, like, the day?”

Louis snorts, shaking his head.

“Not everyone lives the heroin chic rocker lifestyle, Harry. Besides, I don’t drink, alcohol tastes like shit”. Harry looks deeply offended, but Louis’ never been more in love.

~*~

For a while, Louis thought that it was maybe a fluke. Harry stopped showing up to their shared lecture bruised and battered, his eyes lit up again, and he still wore those god damn black boots he seemed to love so much. Louis learns a lot about Harry. He has an older sister, Gemma, who he claims is the most gorgeous girl you will ever meet. He loves beer, but not nearly as much as he loves orange juice. He owns 7 pairs of black skinny jeans, one for each day of the week. He’s clumsy as fuck.

In return, Louis spills his heart out to Harry as well. He tells him that he secretly wants a lip piercing, and that he fucking hates reptiles of any kind. He tells Harry about the time he broke his arm climbing a tree as a kid, and when he got stung by a wasp - in the face.

Harry’s laugh is like a drug, and Louis is slowly becoming an addict.

~*~

Of course, it wasn’t long before their luck ran out. One Monday, Harry walks into their weekly lecture with his head hung low, deep purple shadows beneath his eyes. He doesn’t doodle on his notes, doesn’t even doodle on Louis’ notes, and he doesn’t laugh at his own jokes, or whisper nonsense into Louis’ ear. He just copies down what the lecturer says, word for word, tears slipping out of his hollow eyes. Louis finds it exceedingly difficult to concentrate, and the hour seems to pass by impossibly slow.

Finally, when the lecturer dismisses them, Louis rushes over to Harry, quickly and quietly leading him to their spot, underneath their willow tree.

Their home outside of home.

“What happened? What’s wrong?” Louis asks, wrapping his arms around Harry, who sniffles without answering.

Louis waits.

Eventually, Harry speaks up. “Aaron broke up with me”.

Louis doesn’t see how that could possibly be a bad thing, considering the abuse Harry seemed to have endured in being with Aaron.

Louis is sad, though, for Harry’s sake, saying things like “I’m so sorry, love” and “C’mon now, don’t cry.” Harry just sits there and sobs, hiding his face in Louis’ shoulder.

They sit in silence for a while, before Louis reluctantly moves, “love, you’re going to be late for you next class if we don’t start moving” he says apologetically. After walking Harry to his journalism class, he heads home, victory dancing all the way back.

~*~

“Zayn!” Louis shouts, out of breathe.

Zayn stumbles out of his room, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. “What is it?” he mumbles, yawning.

“Aaron broke it off with Harry!”

Zayn’s eyes light up. “The abusive douchebag? Good on him.”

Louis smiles, happy that at least Zayn understood.

“Yeah. He seemed really upset about it, though. Like, tears, upset.”

Zayn sighs. “Yeah, thats kinda the thing with abusive relationships, though, innit? Once you’re in one, your perspective of wrong and right gets completely fucked up. Basically, you start thinking that some random asshole is a king.

~*~

Louis is awoken at 11 o’clock that night by a light tapping on the door of their flat. Groaning, he rolls out of bed, throws on a shirt, and walks out of his room. He sees Zayn do the exact same.

“Who the fuck makes house calls at 11 pm?!” Zayn grumbles, as Louis opens the door, immediately getting an armful of gangly teenage boy and curly hair.

“Harry?!” he whispers, more than a little bit shocked.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t know where else to go” Harry sobs, quivering.

Louis guides them over to the couch, taking Harry into his lap. Zayn rushes to turn on a lamp, and in the light Louis can fully see what he thinks is Harry’s face, although he’s not quite sure if that’s what was underneath that bloodied, purplish-black mess. An eerie silence falls over the room then, as Harry hangs his head in shame.

Louis breaks the silence, saying “I thought you broke it off with him?”

Harry looks up, shocked. “Aaron? Aaron didn’t do this. Please, just. I’m hurt. And I wanted to be with someone who doesn’t hate me completely” he says, helplessly.

“I don’t hate you at all, not even a little bit.” Louis reassures, gesturing for Zayn to sit on the couch next to them.

This is my roommate, Zayn.” Harry peers up at Zayn, before squeaking a bit, shrinking into Louis’ arms, because sure, Zayn can be pretty intimidating sometimes, with his dark quiff and bushy eyebrows.

Thankfully, Zayn takes it upon himself to do the introductions. “Hey, Harry, yeah? I’m Zayn. And I don’t hate you, just so you know. Sick tattoo’s” he says, somehow knowing the exact thing to say to gauge a smile out of Harry.

Louis smiles at Zayn gratefully. “Harry, love, we’ve got to get you cleaned up.”

Somehow, Harry looks even worse after a shower, with a huge purple bruise covering his left cheek, a bloodied lip, and a black eye. It seems like his whole face is swollen. While Louis gently washes away pieces of rubble and dried blood, Zayn and Harry engage in a deep conversation about what exactly is it that makes a good tattoo artist.  
Louis helps Harry out of the bathroom and back onto the couch. “I know you don’t want to, but we’ve got to talk about what happened, lovely. Would you prefer it if Zayn stayed or left?”

Harry swallows, visibly nervous. “He can stay. I like him.” Zayn smiles a little, taking Harry’s hand in his own, clearly fond of the boy.

“Okay, so you said that it wasn’t Aaron who hurt you.” Louis states, handing Harry a cup of tea.

“Yeah, he’s never laid a hand on me.” Harry said assuredly.

Louis’ brow furrows in confusion. “What? But…but every time you spend the night at his, you come back to school hurt.”

Harry seems perplexed, looking at Louis as if he had 5 heads. “Um…I don’t have a clue on what you’re talking about, considering that Aaron lives on campus. I never stay the night; our RA would be so pissed.”

“So where the fuck are you when you disappear off the face of the earth for something like 24 hours straight, and then show up again hurt?”

When he gets no answer, Louis sighs, getting up to pace the floor before taking a different approach.

“Okay. You got hurt tonight, am I right?”

Harry nods.

“And you’re saying that you weren’t with Aaron today? At all?”

This time, Harry hesitates.

“Okay, so maybe…I…I did see him today. We talked. Well. He talked. I begged.”

Louis eyes him suspiciously. “But that was this morning.”

Louis can’t deny that his wounds look fresh.“Ok…fair enough. Then Harry, where were you _tonight_?”

It’s the one question Harry was hoping to avoid, and Louis knows it.

When Harry doesn’t answer, Zayn speaks up.

“C’mon, Harry. We can’t help you if you act all mysterious. Where were you tonight?” he asks, voice full of emotion and eyes softer than ever.

Harry hesitates.

“I…I was at home.”

And if Louis wasn’t confused before, he sure as hell is now. “Harry…you’re telling me that you somehow got beaten up in your own apartment? That’s seriously fucked up.”

Harry’s Adam apple bobs up and down a bit. “N-no…I didn’t mean my flat, I meant my _house._ As in, with my parents.”

The room goes dead silent before Louis speaks up, tense and quiet.

“Your parents gave you that?” he stated, gesturing at Harry’s battered face.

Harry barely nods once.

“Is it your mum or your dad that I should punch in the fucking face?”

Harry makes an attempt to smile.

“It’s my…it’s my mum. But now that I’ve told you…you can’t just…Aaron left because it was too much to handle. Like, my situation with my mum. So, just. Please. Don’t leave me all alone. Please.” Harry says, unsure.

“We would never” Zayn and Louis say, almost in unison.

“And you’re not going back there. Not a chance. As soon as we can, we’re moving you out.” Zayn proclaims, reaching out a hand to smooth back Harry’s damp hair.

Harry shakes his head sadly. “Where would I go? I’ve got nowhere.”

Louis snorts. “You’ll stay here, not a problem.” Zayn echoes his agreement. Harry smiles a bit.

“What…what about tonight? Can I stay here for tonight, or is that pushing it?”

Louis dismisses his question fervently.

“Yeah babe, you’re definitely staying here tonight. There’s no way we’re letting you go back there. I can’t find the extra blankets and shit now, though, so you’ll need to share a bed with me. Is that okay?”

Harry nods silently, letting out a yawn. Louis chuckles in adoration.

“Go on up to bed, baby boy. I’ll be there in a sec.” Too tired to protest, Harry obliges.

“Shit, man.” Zayn mutters, joining Louis in the kitchen, running a hand through his hair.

Louis sighs. “I know. What do you think of him?”

Zayn chuckles tiredly. “Honestly? He’s adorable and kind and sweet. I ship you two so hard.”

He barely misses a fist to the head then.

“Go to your room, lover boy’s waiting!” he proclaims, earning a kick in the shins.

~*~

Harry prefers to wake up at the ass crack of dawn. Louis, on the other hand, likes to take his time. Even if that means he doesn’t open his eyes until 2 in the afternoon. So when Harry stumbles out of their shared room at 8 am, it’s not surprising that he’s alone, Zayn having left for an early class.

Bored, Harry decides to search Louis’ fridge, desperate for some comfort food, hopefully something he can cook for the both of them so that he doesn’t feel totally useless. Strangely enough, he found all the makings for a western omelet - eggs, butter, ham, green peppers and onion.  
~*~

Louis wakes up to the most delicious thing he’s ever smelt being set down gently on his nightstand. He cracks one eye open slightly, before practically bursting out of bed with a huge grin.

“Oh my god Harry can I get rid of Zayn and just live with you instead?”, voice full of gratitude.

Harry smiles. “It’s a western omelet, you doofus. A 3 year old could make it, s’not a big deal.”

Louis continues to smile from ear to ear. “It is, though, because I can’t cook for shit.”

It slips out of his mouth by accident. Louis and Harry are sitting on the bed, and Louis’ halfway done his omelet before he groans, mumbling

“Harry, I love you.”

Next to him, Harry freezes. A moment later, so does Louis. Then, he’s scrambling to fix it, saying

“Oh my god, Harry I’m sorry, I’m such an ass, you just got dumped, shit I’m so sorry” Harry cuts him off with the flintiest grin he can pull off.

“I don’t mind it. Aaron was great, but he’s not you. He fell in love with my spring, my flowers, not my roots, and when fall came, he didn’t know what to do.”

Even excluding the shitty metaphor, Louis could barely wrap his head around what the hell Harry was saying.

“You…what exactly are you saying? Because I think I like where it’s going.”

Harry blushes a bit. “it’s just that…being with Aaron never felt like being with you and I have no idea what to do. When I’m with you…I’m calm. It’s like everything, everything with my mum and school and Aaron…it disappears.”

If Louis’ heart beats any louder, it’s going to jump out of his chest.

“Harry…” he begins, hesitating slightly. “You…you’re so fucking hot, that you should make my knees knock and palms sweat, all that sappy shit. Instead, you just make me calm and happy and free. D’ya… do you think, then, that that’s it, right there? True, pure, whole hearted love? Because I’ve never felt like this with anyone else…and I’ve never been in love, either. But I think I might be in love with you.”

Harry squeaks a bit, somehow blushing even redder. “I…I don’t think I can love you yet. I loved mum, and now she uses me as her punching bag. I thought I loved Aaron, and he left me when shit got tough. But, um. I’d like to try, being with you, because I don’t think you’d leave, even if things got really shitty.”

Louis fights to hold back tears. “For sure, I’ll always support you, sweetheart, and I’ll always keep you safe. I promise. I’d love to try us out. We’ll take things slow.” Harry feels warmth spreading within him when Louis holds his hand.

~*~

After that, everything’s different, but everything’s good. Zayn is behind Louis and Harry all the way, and he moved into their flat as soon as they can. Sometimes, Harry wakes up plagued by nightmares, but at least he isn't alone, this time. This time, he got luckier, because now he's got Louis, who always makes everything better. They're not perfect. They annoy each other, tick each other off, say shitty things and then take them back. But put all that aside, and you'll never find two people who care and love each other more than they did.


End file.
